A Pair of Winged Sandals
by Unquestionably Unhinged
Summary: It all began with an invitation to a wedding. When the relatively winged messenger Hermes catches the eye of a certain Trickster, all bets are off. Now after eons of being extinct, the demigod has returned and Gabriel takes it upon himself to reintegrate her back into society and all the horrors that come with it. FemaleHermes Gabriel/OC
1. Feather Me Flustered

**Alright, my first Supernatural Fic. I found the Trickster to be the best character so far, I mean who wouldn't, right? Anywho, in this story I'm making Hermes a female, so if you have any problem with mythological innacuracies don't read this. But read it anyway. Cause it's going to be good. Because I said so.**

**Alright, let's get started-**

* * *

Tumbling round in the sky, Hermes couldn't quite get her feet to stay straight and thus, the rest of her toppled clumsily about the clouds. Gripping her satchel to her side, she adjusted the winged helmet sitting on her head and grimaced.

Her first heralding was, admittedly, not going too well. She had already gotten lost twice and now her boots would not stay down.

"Idiotic, stupid things-" Hermes grumbled, whacking the boots with Kerykeioni. This, of course, didn't help one bit and the boots began to spiral horribly out of control. Shouting out in surprise, Hermes grasped at them wildly, nearly dropping the golden scepter.

The winged boots flipped her upside down and she growled at them, thoroughly annoyed. Suddenly, her destination came into view and her eyes grew wide. Asgard, Olympus' counterpart, as beautiful as the great Mount in everyway. But, why was it coming on so fast?

Crying out in surprise, Hermes realized, with great depression, that her boots were out of control and wouldn't stop anytime soon. With Kerykeion(i) still in hand, she grasped for the buckles in desperation, but it was too late.

Hermes sped past Himinbjörgii(ii) and a rather bewildered Heimdall, who was beginning to raise his horn when she shouted back to him,

"NO! THIS IS NOT AN INVASION! IT'S HERMES! HERMES-!"

Continuing down the Bifrost, Hermes heard the low sound of Gjallarhorniii(iii) and cringed. Why did no one listen to her? Soldiers flew from the Palace, swords and glaives at the ready, though their brows furrowed in confusion at the so called intruder, screaming as she flew through the air.

Seeing as she couldn't reach the buckles, Hermes took to beating the boots again with Kerykeion, more out of frustration than the thought that it would help. Only when arrows began to fly did she realize how much trouble she was in.

At one point, she had to rip off her helmet to cover her face from an oncoming arrow.

"THAT IS _NOT_ HELPING!"

One of the soldiers heard the cry and froze.

"Wait a minute," he said, squinting to see the flying figure better. "That looks like Zeus' messenger!"

"WHAT!?" the captain shouted, looking incredulously at the soldier. "HOLD YOUR FIRE! STAND DOWN, I SAY!"

The soldiers lowered their bows and stopped firing, watching the out of control messenger as she flew into trees and a few poor passers-by. The Captain raced up to the highest tower and onto the battlements, following the woman as far as he could.

"AIM FOR THE DOORS!" He cried to her, leaning over the stone.

"WHAT!?" she screamed back.

"THE DOORS!"

"Ah" she said to herself, understanding. With one swift motion, Hermes curled herself up and grasped her boots, still rolling about in the air, but now, having aimed her boots backwards, she shot forward and down, straight towards a herd of armed soldiers.

"GET OUT OF THE WAY!" She screamed.

"OPEN THE DOORS!" The Captain shouted sprinting down the tower.

The soldiers threw themselves out of her way as two others pulled open the two great, ornate, golden doors. Hermes flew through them and into the immense thrown room, lined with armored guards, who flung themselves to the floor when Hermes came flying in.

The gods who stood in the room watched in confusion, which turned to alarm as she flew straight at them. Only two were not panicking at the soaring messenger. A young Loki stood off to the side, crying with laughter as Hermes kicked a terrified Baldur in the face.

And The Allfather stared with raised brows from his thrown, an amused smirk fighting its way up his face. Though, with a sigh, he stood and, with a flick of his wrist, the wings on the boots froze.

Hermes, who was at that moment, grasping for the rafters of the ceiling, fell flat on her face in front of the entire congregation. The hall was silent, save for Loki's cackling in the back. Hermes pushed herself off the polished marble floor and coughed awkwardly.

"I-um I have a-uh a message for Odin Allfather from the-ahem-Lord Zeus." she shifted self-consciously under the scurrilous eyes of the Northern gods.

"Very well," Odin's voice boomed briskly as he stepped down from the dais, hand extended. "You have a letter, I presume?"

"Uh-letter? Oh, um-yes, of course."

Hermes opened her bag and rifled through it until, with much grumbling and fumbling, she pulled out a crisp white envelope, sealed with the crest of Zeus; thunderclouds and a lightning bolt.

With her legs still getting used to solid ground, she nearly tripped over her own feet as she handed Odin the letter. A thunderous laugh tore through the hall, making Hermes bristle and her already red face turned a nice, deep scarlet.

"LOKI!" Odin shouted, rounding on the Trickster god with a look of fury. A look, mind you, that could sober up an orgy better than a cold shower and which had the same effect on Loki, because the moment they made eye contact, the grin slipped from his face and he stared sullenly down at his sandals.

Hermes stepped back when Odin took the letter and opened it, reading it silently to himself, his singular eye roving over the parchment. She removed her winged helmet, now dented with the love taps of Asgardian arrows, and ran a hand through her short, white blonde hair.

As she went to put it back on, she caught the eye of the estranged, pouting deity who stood glaring at her from across the room. Slipping the helmet back so that her fringe stuck out, she glared back at him.

He was not as impressive as the other deities in the hall, but there was something about him, something dangerous yet divine, even more so than The Allfather; in his own way of course. Hermes had met her fair share of demigods and he was unlike anything she had ever seen.

It was as if there was something beneath the sulking yet playful face; something so much more powerful than anything in this room, something that, if you poked it enough, would come bursting forth, destroying anything and everything in it's path.

Shaking her head of these odd thoughts, Hermes went back to glaring at him. Neither blinked and both fumed silently, that is, until the Allfather began to speak.

"A feast?" he asked looking up from the parchment at the flying goddess.

"A wedding actually, Milord; of the god Eros to the human woman Psyche."

"I see, and what, may I ask, is the lord Zeus' relation to him?"

Hermes chuckled and looked sheepishly up at the Allfather.

"Honestly Allfather, with all the philandering that goes on in my family, it's hard to tell who's who."

Odin smiled down at the young goddess, his face creasing in amusement. For a split second, Hermes saw why he was known as the Allfather. Then the smile was gone and gave a short nod, stepping back onto the dais.

"You may inform Zeus that he can expect our arrival."

"Of course, thank you my lord Allfather." she was just about to leave when he added-

"Oh, and you may want to see to your sandals, young one. We wouldn't want our only Holy Messenger to fly into a cliff, would we?"

Hermes noticed the grin break out on the face of the Trickster when Odin mentioned her as the Holy Messenger. With her brow furrowed in hidden confusion, she nodded silently.

"Yes milord, I'll get straight to it." with a swift bow and a short run, Hermes took off through the doors and was back out into the sky.

* * *

Gabriel, or Loki as he was outwardly known to these boobs, watched the young pagan as she took off. It reminded him of the old days, before he went AWOL; when he used to deliver messages to the high and the mighty.

Though he never had a pair of busted winged boots to help him fly around, nor a helmet; he had to admit it gave her a certain look, a real 'don't shoot the messenger' type of look. Shrugging his shoulders, Gabriel turned to leave the hall, not that he wanted to be there anyway.

"And where do you think you are going, Loki?" Odin called from his throne.

With a roll of his eyes, Gabriel spun around on his heel and put on a fake smile. He could sense the discomfort coming from the other gods as it always did when he smiled.

"Well, from what I heard from the Winged Wonder over there, we have a wedding to attend."

His eyes snapped to the hulking mass of Thor that came strutting his way, hammer gripped tight in his fist. Gabriel, being much shorter than the muscle bound demigod, simply rocked back on his heels, hands behind his back and a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Mark my words Trickster," Thor thundered, glaring down at smug angel in disguise, "if you disrupt these nuptials, you shall have the full force of Mjolnir shattering that thick skull of yours."

"Hey, calm down, big guy, before you pop a lung," Gabriel smirked, patted Thor's chest reassuringly. "I won't try anything, cross my heart. Besides, I've got other ideas." he grinned at this, his mind already filling with ideas on how best to annoy this new so called, Holy Messenger.

Whirling around again, Gabriel skipped from the hall, his roaring laughter echoing behind him.

* * *

**So? What did you think? I enjoy feedback, as does anyone so please; I'm begging you.**

i _**Kerykeion:**_ Hermes' Golden Scepter

ii _**Himinbjörg:**_ Heimdall's Fortress at the foot of The Bifrost

iii **Gjallarhorn:** Heimdall's Horn, used to warn against approaching intruders

**~U-Hinged**


	2. To Poke a Sleeping Dragon

**Heyo, sorry it took so long. I was on vacation in a bathroom sized cabin in the woods with five other people. Writing the only thing keeping me sane. Plus the moose weren't too friendly either. And _don't_ get me started on those Europeans. Anywhay,**

**Wheeljacksgirl: Mmm, we'll just have to see won't we? Great idea though. See people, I need more reviewers like this lovely lady right here!**

**Let's get started!**

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Sweet music filled the banquet halls of Mount Olympus, gods and goddesses laughed and drank wine, some sitting at tables, trading old war time stories while others snuck off to do the wild thing in the nearby Olive Orchards.

Hermes had been forced into enough of these celebrations to know the general schedule. Her fellow deities would drink, womanize and breed until someone insulted Ares, which let's face it, would eventually happen, and then it was a just a hop, skip and a jump to an earth shattering, interstellar bar fight.

Hermes sighed as she poured herself another goblet of wine. Her fathers Northern friends had appeared, as promised, and, like any gala, the fights were starting to brake out. Ullr and Artemis were arguing about whom was the better shot while Tyr and Ares fought just for the sake of fighting.

Shaking her head, she got up from the cushion she was sitting on and began to make her way about the hall. _'May as well mingle'_ she thought to herself.

_"Hermes!"_

She heard the shout before she saw the man. Dionysus came running towards her, his eyes already wild and she could smell the alcohol on his breath. Behind him came another inebriated god Hermes knew to be Ptah, the Egyptian god of creation.

"Hermes, explain to Ptah that I beat him at drinking games because I am simply more important than he is."

"Lady Hermes, you know this to be untrue! Tell your brother that he wins because he is _always_ in a state of intoxication!"

"Dionysus, you are an everlasting drunk and you know it. Don't try to justify yourself."

The two young gods burst into drunken laughter and Hermes had to smile. Dionysus would always be the youngest of the Twelve Olympians and the most wild; that would never change.

He and Ptah began to move off back into the crowd when Hermes grasped his arm.

"Dionysus, be sure Ptah does not do any creating until he is sober. We do _not_ need another Okapi."

"I'll make sure of it, sister." he whispered loudly into her ear before following his friend into the fray.

With a roll of her eyes, Hermes continued through the throng of gods, greeting those she knew and doing her best to avoid the violent battles braking out all around her. Suddenly, something completely unexpected caught her eye.

Next to her brother Apollo stood The Trickster god she had seen in Asgard. It looked as though he were asking Apollo a question, to which they both began to look around the hordes of deities.

Finally, Apollo's eyes fell on her and he nudged the other god, pointing in her direction. A slow grin moved up the Trickster's face and he nodded swiftly to Apollo and started towards her. With widened eyes, Hermes spun around on her heel, planning to get as far away from the brown haired god as possible.

"Going somewhere, sweetheart?"

A small shriek escaped her lips, though it went unheard as the celebrations became more raucous. By some magic, the Trickster stood smirking in front of her, blocking her path. Her head snapped back to where Apollo stood; now chatting with Ra.

"Wha-how did you-?"

"Trickster, remember?"

With a huff, Hermes dashed around him, hoping to lose the smug demigod at the speed she was going, but when she stopped, there he stood, right in front of her again.

"Where did you get that helmet, huh? It's charming."

She tried again, but to no avail.

"And those shoes! Are those real wings, or do they just add to the whole _speed_ persona?"

And again.

"Honey, I could do this all night."

"Why won't you leave me alone?" she growled silently, seeing as they had somehow ended up right beside an arm wrestling match between Thor and Zeus.

"Cause," he shrugged, "I like your name. _Hermes_; it's got a nice ring to it, you've got to admit."

Scowling, Hermes went to sidestep him but he moved into her way.

"Just this whole_ lord of the mailmen_ thing you've got going on, it's adorable."

Now Hermes, who had always been small in stature (it helped with the job, got her around faster) compensated for her lack of height by having an entirely too big ego; an ego that was easily bruised by words like short, cute and definitely _adorable_.

"I'm warning you Trickster-"

"Oh? And what are you going to do to me, huh munchkin? Come on, gimme your best shot."

He stepped back and, throwing his arms out, made himself an easy target. Hermes seethed silently, her hands curling into fists and her eyes turning into hateful slits as she glared up at him.

"No?" he asked, "well, maybe you need some encouragement. God, I love that hat."

Before she could react, he reached out and swiped the helmet from her head, revealing her pixie cut crop of white blond hair. The Trickster stepped back and waited, a grin on his face and the helmet hidden behind his back.

Around them, gods exchanged wary glances and shuffled out of the range of fire, for many knew the wrath of Hermes and those who did not knew only too well of the Trickster Loki's deadly pranks and the devastation that followed.

Thor cast a fleeting look to Zeus and was about to get up from the table he was seated at, thinking he would knock some sense into the Norse Charlatan. The aged thunder god beside him laid a strong hand on his arm and beckoned him back.

"Better men that you have fixed their hands in the affairs of Hermes," he muttered. "and they've all of them pulled back _stumps_."

With a furrowed brow and a slight cringe, Thor slowly sat back down, his eyes trained cautiously on the messenger goddess.

"Give it back, you immortal _cheat_." Hermes growled, advancing on him.

"Ooo, name calling. That's low, sweetheart." he leaned forward, his warm breath brushing against Hermes pale skin. "Why don't you _take_ it back?"

So, with a low, almost animalistic snarl, Hermes charged him. Her nails dug into his shoulders as they flew across the room and Gabriel's head spun at the speed they were going, until finally, she slammed him up against one of the walls.

"I said _give_ it _back_."

"Oh, I love it when a woman takes charge."

She silenced him with a quick sharp punch to the face, nearly breaking his nose.

"Ow, geez, alright fine, I was just playing around." he whined, clutching his now bruised jaw.

He held out the dented helmet and Hermes grabbed it immediately; expecting him to let go as well but he kept a tight grip on it. Suddenly, he pulled it towards him, dragging her along with it. His eyes flashed dangerously as he leaned forward to whisper to her-

"You don't want to get on my bad side, sugar. I suggest you change your attitude before it gets you into-"

Her fist collided with the side of his face once again, throwing him backwards, his face a picture of surprise. With the helmet now held tight in her own hands, she glared down at the wounded deity, who now lay leaned against the wall, clutching a bleeding nose.

"Do not threaten me, Trickster. I don't suspect you would like your ego tarnished any anymore than it already is."

And with a spin of her heel, Hermes was gone before Gabriel could even blink. His golden eyes were wide with shock and surging with rage. The gods around him all shared the same look of surprise until Baldur began to chuckle.

"Really Loki; beaten by a woman? Have you lost your touch?"

Mocking laughter filled the hall and Gabriel's face went red. Still holding his broken nose and with one last piercing glare at Baldur, he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

* * *

Hermes sat amid the branches of a large Olive Tree, watching the bats flit around the sky. Music still streamed from the hall which stood not far away but she was not keen on going back in there, not if he would be there. Unbenounced to the divine herald, a set of livid, honey colored eyes glowered down at her from the terrace.

With his arched and angry brow, flaring nostrils and mouth turned up into a snarl, Gabriel was the very picture of an aggravated beast. His grip on the ledge tightened, so much so that, in the centuries to follow, one could still see the finger indentations in the marble.

Never had he been so humiliated, and by nothing more that a celestial _carrier pigeon_! And to top it all off, she had to do it in front of that group of pathetic _pagans_. Gabriel ground his teeth. If they knew who he was, _what_ he was; if they knew, they wouldn't _dare_ mock him.

He could destroy them all right now with a simple snap of his fingers. He could make them kneel to him, _worship_ him; he could make himself their _GOD!_

_BOOM_

Gabriel nearly jumped out of his vessel as thunder shook the sky; a thunder that was so low, livid and ominous that he knew it wasn't the drunken halfwit with the hammer. Staring apologetically into the Heavens, Gabriel loosened his grip on the balcony and shook all thoughts of morbid domination from his mind.

Golden eyes backtracked through the orchard, settling back on an almost glowing blonde head of hair. With a chuckle and growing grin, a scheme began to form in his mind.

Oh, Gabriel was going to make that prissy postman regret this day for the rest of her life.

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**Weeeellll? Reviews and all that.**

**~U-Hinged**


	3. The Wrath of a Trickster

**WOO! Took me awhile to get this one just right, but lots happening here! Thanks to all my readers. Also, I just finished the fifth season and Hammer of the Gods. I may need some comfort here! I literally sobbed. But then Death showed up and I was happy again, and yes, he shall make an appearence later in the story, cause really, what's a story without a little Death, and the other three.**

**AngelicVampireGirl: Thanks! I love writing this, it's great! You make me happy! I WRITE THIS FOR YOU, GIRL!**

* * *

**Greece 650 B.C **

"And I told her, I said, _Hag! Release that poor man or by Zeus' orders I shall remove from you the genitalia which you prize so tremendously_."

"Hermes, you incomprehensible _liar_. You spoke no such words to her."

"No, perhaps not, but it was heavily implied."

Apollo snorted and Hermes grinned. The two siblings sat blissfully in the shade of a great olive tree, discussing Hermes' recent affair with the new hero Odysseus and his run in with Calypso.

"I swear brother, the way she is, imprisonment may be the only way she can keep a lover."

"Speaking from experience sister?" he asked, leaning in, grinning toothily.

"_APOLLO!_" Hermes shrieked dramatically before adding, with a smirk of her own, "How did you know?"

The two gods collapsed into fits of laughter and many a peasant who passed them thought them to be nothing but two more early drunks under the influence of Dionysus. It took them a few moments to calm themselves, but when they did, Apollo decided to bring up the subject he had been pondering for some time.

"Hermes, what are your thoughts on those new Romans?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Apollo regretted ever mentioning it, for Hermes' face went from cheer to resentment in a split second.

"Fakes, counterfeits, hollow facsimiles," she ground out, shredding a nearby pile of fallen leaves with distinct vigor, "nothing but poor imitations."

"Sister," Apollo began, "you say this only because you abhor that one, ohh what is his name? Ah yes, _Mercury_."

"A fraud and imposter, nothing more." Hermes replied haughtily.

"Quite congenial."

"Sycophant."

"Pardon?" he asked.

"Flatterer." she clarified.

"Oh come now, I hear he gets the job done and isn't that what matters?"

Hermes paused and looked up at her brother with raised brows.

"_My_ job, you mean. He gets _my_ job done."

"Well, you _have_ been getting a tad _slow_-" the words flew from Apollo's mouth before he had time to think about what he was saying.

Hermes' heart ached at the words of her brother and she had to turn away from him to hide the misery etched onto her face.

"Speaking of jobs, should not _you_ be getting back to _yours_?"

Upon hearing the anguish in her words, Apollo lowered his head in shame. He knew his sister's heart broke at the idea of being replaced and it was fast becoming less of an idea and more the truth. Times were changing and they were changing fast, they all knew it but it was Hermes who took it the hardest.

Maybe it was because she wasn't a god of anything much important, like war or the sea; she was just a simple messenger who was fast becoming superfluous in the underworld, what with all those reapers about. But she always pushed herself to do better than them, to go faster and become a valuable asset in the growing world.

And yet, with all she did to improve her already flawless approach, it seemed that the world was fixed on making the Greek goddess Hermes obsolete. It was this thought, not that of the fraud _Mercury_, that caused Hermes to despair so.

"Hermes"

_silence_

"_Sister-_"

"Leave me Apollo. Back to your _chariot_, I implore you, _go_. We cannot have _me_ making _you_ slow."

Her words were biting and cold like the flurries of winter and Apollo took it as his cue to depart. With a sharp nod to his sister, who was still faced away from him , he stood and walked over to a nearby clump of bushes which he pushed through and disappeared from sight.

At the sound of a whip and the neigh of horses, sparkling tan eyes the color of the desert sand flew to the sky, just in time to see a splendid golden chariot take to the sky and disappear into the sun. Hermes sighed and ran a shaky hand through her hair.

A quick look around told her that no one was near and she reached around behind the tree, pulling out her helmet, staff and sandals. She made quick work of strapping them to her feet and shifting the helmet onto her head comfortably.

Then, with a quick jab of her heels into each of the sandals, the wings on either side began to quiver and the quiver turned into a rapid flutter which became a steady, rhythmic flap and soon enough, Hermes was off the ground and already speeding west.

* * *

**America 650 B.C**

Back in the day, before America _was_ America, it was one of the best kept secrets of the prospering European world. The people were nomads and followed the herds, so it was a relatively quiet land and that was just how Hermes liked it, when she came to think of course.

Digging her heels into the ground, creating a small ditch, Hermes touched down on the fertile ground and breathed in the scent of the pines. She pushed her way through the underbrush until she arrived in a large clearing, inhabited only by the regions wildlife. A large, felled oak lay hopelessly in the centre and this was where she sat, leaning with her back against the rough bark.

Her helmet was removed, followed by the sandals and next to them, she placed Kerykeion. Lying back, the bark was coarse against her smooth, white, Grecian skin and she shut her eyes, allowing only the sounds of life around her into her ears and mind.

She had been lying there for sometime when she suddenly heard the eerily close sound of flapping wings to her right. Sandy eyes snapped open and Hermes turned her body, expecting to see one of the native Thunderbirds. But it was not a Thunderbird that stared down at her from the top of the felled tree.

"Well lookee here, it's the town crier."

Hermes groaned and pushed herself off the ground, silently wishing he would simply snap away when he saw she was not interested. On the contrary, the honey eyes Trickster pursued her.

"Hey, where ya going!?" he called after her, hopping off the tree and following.

"Your company is unwelcome at the moment, Trickster." she replied, but jumped when he appeared in front of her.

"Hey," he said, hands held up in surrender and eyes sincere, "I come in peace."

Coming to the conclusion that he would not leave her until she heard him, Hermes sighed and moved to sit down on the grass. Gabriel followed suit and the two simply stared at each other, until Hermes broke the silence.

"Why are you here, Trickster?"

"I have a name you know? It's Loki."

"Why are you here, _Loki?_"

"Charming." he sneered, but covered it quickly with a small smile. "Well, I was in Greece, grabbing some olives, cause you need olives if you're making martini's. I guess you could use lemon or lime, but olives are really always my go to-"

"Trickster." Hermes warned, annoyed and impatient.

"Pardon? I can't quite hear you, what did you say?"

"_Loki_." she ground out, thoroughly irritated.

"_There_ ya go. Well, I was on my way back from town when I heard your argument with your brother. Now I know it's none of my business, but you looked pretty dreary when you took off. So I followed you here; thought I could cheer you up a bit. Ya know, turn that sad little frown upside down."

As he said this, he reached out and seized her pink cheeks, turning the corners of her mouth upwards into a forced smile.

"That's it, perfect!" Hermes couldn't help but laugh as she pushed his hands away. Gabriel chuckled along but the smile did not reach his eyes.

"Hey," he exclaimed, "speaking of drinks, how about one, eh?" With a snap of his fingers, two goblets appeared on the grass before them. Hermes was hesitant to drink the dark liquid but Gabriel grabbed one of the cups and raised it in a toast.

"To…starting over." and he downed it in one go. Hermes chuckles and raised her own goblet to her lips, copying him. Gabriel watched the blond messenger in anticipation, as if waiting for something. As soon as she finished the drink, his face became solemn.

"Hermes, about the wedding-"

She looked up at him and shook her head. "All is forgiven, Loki."

"That's not what I was going to say."

All of a sudden, Hermes began to feel sick. A soft pounding began in the back of her brain and her stomach clenched and unclenched in strange, rapid succession. She gasped as her heart began to explode within her chest. She grasped at it and rolled over onto the grass in pain.

"You really shouldn't drink anything you haven't poured yourself."

Gabriel simply watched the young pagan as she clawed at her chest. The smirk on his face faltered for a second, though only a second, and then it was back to his deceptive grin. He stood up and brushed nonexistent dirt from his clothes.

"The thing about ambrosia is that it can be so _easily_ corrupted."

"What-did you-do?" Hermes wheezed, straining to look up into the mischievous eyes of the Trickster. Even as she spoke, the soft glow of immortality surrounding her began to fade and crack.

"Ohhh, nothing _life threatening, _just laced your precious elixir of life with a nice heaping helping of Belladonna."

Kneeling down next to her, Gabriel ran a steady hand through her blonde hair, much like you would a dog. And, seeing that she was far too weak to push him away or move at all for that matter, he continued to stroke her hair.

"Ya see, when you mix ambrosia with belladonna, the poison just kinda works it's way right into the seams of your little immortal plant and -_SNAP_- the effects are reversed. Then, all you've got to do is drink it and the toxin consumes your prized _immortality_."

Hermes' head was spinning and her thoughts were clouded, but the clenching in her chest was becoming less excruciating. As Gabriel continued to talk, she struggled to think of something, anything that could possibly get her out of the…uncomfortable situation she was in.

"Took me some time to figure out the right amount for each, but eventually I got it."

"Why?"

"You're joking right?" Gabriel asked incredulously. "After you humiliated me? I can't go anywhere without Baldur bringing it up again. But not to worry, I already have the perfect trick all set up for _him_."

This was when Hermes realized she was in way over her head. She had met her fair share of Tricksters on her routes, hell she was a trickster herself, and if there was one thing she knew, it was that they did _not_ like having their pride wounded, in anyway.

She understood that this was one of those few times she would not come out of unscathed, but her real fear was on the notion that she would not come out of this at all, for Tricksters are known for taking things too far, it was their M.O. But what she did not understand, and what was annoying her to no end, was why he wasn't getting on with it.

His fingers weaved through her hair as he simply sat next to her, apparently waiting for something to happen and it angered her. Suddenly, an idea pushed through the jumbled mess that was Hermes' brain, at the moment.

"Why not-simply-kill me? Why go through-all this-trouble? Surely you are-powerful enough."

"You bet your spring plumaged sandals, I am." Gabriel stated with an air of arrogance. As she had expected, his fingers left her hair and he stood up, his chest puffing out unconsciously. Sandy eyes watched the caramel haired Trickster cagily, praying silently that his back would stay turned to her.

It did, for a while, and in those few precious moments, as he prattled on haughtily, Hermes pushed herself slowly off the ground, her arms shaking considerably, no matter how she tried to steady them.

"But killing you," Gabriel continued, "seemed so…rushed, quick and dirty, ya know? And that just ain't my style."

He began to turn back around, expecting to still be speaking to a frail almost-mortal, but in those last few seconds, Hermes leapt for her staff and threw it. Kerykeion flew through the air and, being true to its master, struck Gabriel in the side of the head, knocking him to the ground.

The pair of serpents around the rod hastily untangled themselves and showed their fangs, ready to strike at the frazzled angel. Gabriel's eyes were wide as they flickered between the two snakes and the blonde woman slowly crawling towards the underbrush, in a desperate attempt to get away.

"Nuh uh sweetheart; not that easy."

With a quick snap of his fingers, the two snakes writhed and wriggled, gold working it's way back up their scaled bodies. They slithered back to the staff and entwined themselves once more, just in time too, for the gold had completely coated them.

He then jumped to his feet and sauntered, obviously not in much of a rush seeing as Hermes couldn't get much anywhere very fast, over to the now mortal messenger.

"Well, I think I've allowed you to marinate long enough."

Gabriel bent down next to Hermes and grabbed her by the arms, hauling her to her feet. Hermes, with all her energy now gone, collapsed against the angel, breathing heavily and eyes shut.

"Yeah, it'll be like that for a while, you know, the transition from god to human is never fun. But not to worry, you won't be awake long enough for it to _really_ become bothersome."

Hermes didn't even bother to question his actions as he dragged her across the clearing towards one of the sturdy oak that reached towards the heavens.

"Now try not to think of this as any sort of torment or anything, just a…cosmic _time out_, eh? I'll come back for you before anything _substantial_ happens on this tiny little planet."

"Wha-? What are-you doing?"

"Shhh"

They reached the tree and Gabriel leaned Hermes against it. He snapped his fingers and a rope appeared in his hands, which he tied tightly around her thin frame. Both looked up when they heard thunder echo in the distance and Hermes noticed a small grimace form on Gabriel's face as he muttered something under his breath.

"Shut _up_," he murmured, "I. don't. _care_."

Hermes wheezed out a short laugh as she looked down at the fumbling Trickster.

"Your drunken Norse thunder god?" Gabriel glared up at her with eyes that looked like they held a mighty secret.

"Not even close." he whispered.

Shaking himself out of his irritated stupor, the grin returned to his face and he stepped back from the tree. Hermes was fully tied to the sturdy trunk and she stared at Gabriel with confusion. He simply smirked and clapped his hands together.

"Well alright, are we ready for the final touch?"

"What are you-going to do?" she asked; fear now seeping into her words. If she was indeed mortal now, as the Trickster had said, then he could not merely leave her tied to a tree because, being wise to the wrath of gods themselves, she knew it wouldn't be just for a day or two.

Realization hit that she coulddie heree and she wouldn't be able to come back. She wriggled weakly against the bonds and shot Gabriel a pleading look.

"Please-I'm sorry-please-"

"Words, words, _words!_ I know you Greeks; you _love_ to learn by _experience_! And, _HEY_, I respect that."

"_Bastard-_"

"_Alright_, let's get this show on the road!"

Gabriel put his hands on either side of the tree and began muttering words that Hermes could not understand. At first she thought it was Latin but it took too long to say, so she ruled that out.

"_AH!_" she shouted out, looking down at the ground.

The bark of the tree was moving, encircling her legs so she was becoming apart of the tree. Hermes' desert eyes were wide with fear as she struggled against the ropes. Her mind screamed for her father, her siblings, anyone to come and help her, but no one came.

The bark had reached her chest and she felt her heart slowing. Her breath came in short, ragged bursts as the bark inched its way over her bosom and up her neck. Hermes stretched her neck, trying in vain to keep her face away from the ever moving bark of the tree.

"Don't fight it, it's no use." Gabriel chuckled, watching the struggling woman.

Hermes had enough sense to shut her mouth when the rough wood reached her lips and she did the same with her eyes. Finally, the once divine messenger was sheathed in a tomb of coarse timber, as the rebellious angel simply grinned. He leaned against the trunk and whispered to it-

"Don't worry, sweetie, I'll let you out before anything significant happens, I promise; I won't forget."

And with that, Gabriel spread his great golden wings and took wing, flying quickly back to his pagan brothers, before anyone could become suspicious of him.

Back at the tree, however, rain had begun to fall, nourishing the ground and plants around the land. A man stood before the oak, staring at the place where Hermes was entombed with pity in his eyes. He was a short man with shaggy brown hair and a short beard. HE wore a white, almost glowing robe and his hands were hidden behind his back.

"Oh Gabriel, what have you done?" he asked sorrowfully. Walking up the tree, the strange man place a hand on it and whispered words to it.

"Do not fear, young Pagan. You shall not be harmed by my son's foolishness. This oak shall be protected and by my hand, guarded; until the time at which you are released."

A bright light flashed from his hand and the tree shivered slightly before settling back. A crack of lighnining sounded and the man was gone, leaving only the sound of rain patting gently against the soil.

The sandy eyes of the herald would not be seen again for many eons and when they were, the world would be a much more dangerous and frightening place. The next time those eyes shone, the world would be forfeit; the Apocalypse would have begun.

* * *

**Wow, great eh? Or does this stink? TELL ME! Also, any ideas or things you want to happen would be great, you know, just to get the juices a flowin'! Also, the guy-yeah that's God in Chuck form!**

**~U-Hinged**


	4. The End of the World and I Feel Fine

**I know, it took me a little longer to finish this one but I was suffering from crazy writers block. Also, I just finished the sixth season, and WHAT THE HELL! Honestly, could Cas be anymore of a sneaky little jerk!? Well, I guess we're stuck with Godstiel, for now. Oh, btw, during the War part, I suggest you listen to a song called _"The Four Horsemen" by Judas Priest, _cause I did and it's 50 times better.**

**RosePhoenix18274: Thanks! And she will have a profound role in the Apocalypse; it'll be great!**

**AngelicVampireGirl: Of course they will be! Can't have an SPN fic without the Winchesters.**

**ElfinCleona: Ta, babe. **

**Forever Fanfiction Writer22: I update for _you_, darling.**

**DrAnime203: Oh, you know he is. A right asshole. And she won't just aim for the ass, you can bet on that.**

* * *

**Ilchester, Maryland, 2009**

Saint Mary's Convent stood imposing in the light of the midnight moon. Two men stood in the centre of the old building, staring in apprehension and fear as the ground beneath them opened. A blinding flash appeared from the gaping hole and the boys squinted against it.

_This is it,_ they thought, _the apocalypse._

* * *

**Los Angeles, California**

"_IIEEE!"_

From under the sheets of a large, hotel bed, a man shot up, recoiling from the woman beside him. He tumbled out of the bed and ran out of the room, leaving the woman shrieking obscenities behind him.

He flew through the hall and into the living room, where he raced to the large window, overlooking all of Los Angeles. His hand flew to his mouth, barely muffling his own shrieks as he stared out over the city.

The woman from the bedroom sidled up beside him and looked herself; she saw nothing and thoroughly trashed the man for leaving her like that. But the man wasn't listening. She may not have been able to see it, but she was simply human. Seeing as the man was not, he saw a mite more than she did, and what he saw scared the living crap out of him.

Black clouds he knew only too well to be demons, flew through the air, circling each other in a macabre dance of carnal merriment. Lightning ripped through the night and thunder shook the sky. Winds became harsh and biting; rain was cold and came in the bucket loads while hale followed mercilessly.

It was a strange to say the least but in California it was down right unbelievable. He felt the cage, Lucifer's cage, cracking and splintering, releasing the big man himself. The man cringed in pain, nearly doubling over and clutching at his heart.

He felt his brother's first step onto the earth and felt the wrath mixed with satisfaction as he took his first looks onto this new, frenzied world. He knew his brother could feel him as well, feel the grace that, unlike Lucifer, he had not lost.

The man backed away from the window and fell insensibly onto the couch. The woman had gone already, leaving the door swinging open. The man put his head in his hands and moaned. With a wave of his hand, the door slammed shut, leaving him in complete silence, save for the howling of the wind and the aggressive tapping of the rain against the window.

Then the lights sputtered and went out.

* * *

**Denver, Colorado**

The wind whips wildly at pedestrians and people turn up their collars to keep out the biting cold. A faint red glow shines through the trees and the whinny of a horse sounds from deep within the underbrush.

A young man drives down the street, _Beyonce _blaring through his speakers as the lights of the city reflect off his brand new Lamborghini Gallardo. Behind him, another man, middle aged, drives a battered old pickup. He tails the younger man and, as he stops at a red light, the old pickup rams right into the back of the Lamborghini.

The young man shouts out as the car lurches and the sound of crunching metal meets his ears. The middle aged man's eyes go wide and he jumps out of the car followed by the young man. He runs his hands through his pristine hair as he takes in the damage on his new car.

The faint red glow from the trees burns brighter and the echoing of footsteps grows loud.

Turning slowly, the young man looks angrily at the middle aged man, fury deeply seeded in his eyes. He begins to shout and scream at him, and the older man apologizes time and time again but he would hear none of it. So overcome with rage, he is, that his mind is clouded and he can't think straight.

Suddenly the older man starts to scream himself, blaming the younger man, saying it was his own fault and how his own car was ruined as well and how was he going to pay for this? The young man is outraged that he is being held responsible for this and the anger so overtakes him that he begins to stride over to the other man, absolutely livid.

_SMACK_

A dislocated jaw for the middle aged man.

_CRUNCH_

A broken nose for the young man and two broken ribs.

_BAM_

The older man is kicked to the concrete, his nose bloody and eye bruised.

_CRACK_

A dislocated shoulder.

_WHACK_

A kick to the stomach, knocking the out his air.

_SLAM_

A kick to the face.

_WHAM_

A kick in the throat.

_SMASH_

A discarded beer bottle shattered against a wall and used as a knife.

Finally, the middle aged man lay dead on the concrete ground, blood pooling around his lifeless body. The young man heaves a breath and drops the jagged piece of metal. Stepping over the bloody corpse, he straightens his suit and gets back into his car, his eyes still wild and glowing faintly red.

With a screeching of tires, the man disappears down the street. The wind continues to rustle the trees and the red glow dies down slowly, the whinny of the horse also gone. A gray haired man steps out of the undergrowth and grins up at the sky, his hands in his pockets.

"What a time," he says, "I think I'm going to like it here."

* * *

**Lake Griffin State Park, Florida**

The woods were silent and unmoving in the light of the full moon, save for the bands of bats flying through the trees in their nightly feeding frenzy. A light breeze reached the woods, rustling the leaves gently and causing the trunks of the great trees to creak against the wind.

An intense flash, which only lasted for a moment, blasted through the forest. The burst burned white hot but left no trace after it had past over. Then the winds came; blowing hungrily against the bark, trying in vain to rip it from the trees themselves. Lightning ripped through the sky and thunder rumbled viciously.

A tall tree stood in the centre of the forest, taller than any other tree in the area, older as well. This tree held in its roots a secret that no mortal man could comprehend or would want to in any case. Strange protrusions stuck out from the tree, ones that many scientists had tried to identify but failed.

Lightning struck dangerously close to the old Oak and it quivered slightly, a bright white mark appearing on its trunk, a mark that most men had not seen in many years but those who had; knew it to be an Enochian Protection Sigil.

_CRACK_

As the lightning struck the tree, a flame sprung from the ignited bark. Smoke wafted through the trees as the Oak was set ablaze, red and orange, glowing in the dark night, a source of unsettling light for those passing through.

From beneath the flames, a small crack had appeared in the bark and with the heat of the fire already destroying the wood; the crack became bigger, moving all the way down the tree until it met the ground. Then, like an egg, the tree cracked open, its bark peeling back to be consumed by the flames.

* * *

Almost 3000 years it had been since the days of Greek gods and human sacrifices, of togas and harvests and idols built in the image of the divine. And over those 3000 years, the world had changed drastically; things happened that could never even be comprehended by the people in those times.

This was what made Gabriel's trick truly dangerous, for when the oak cracked open, what fell out was nothing less than the 2659 year old goddess that he had trapped in the great oak eons ago. Soon the flames overtook the entire tree and it fell, nothing more than a smoldering husk, next to the fallen messenger.

Hermes herself lay unmoving on the moist grass as her mind cleared and she could think for the first time in many lifetimes. A soft moan escaped her lips and her eyes began to flutter open, revealing the sharp, sandy, desert eyes of Greece itself. She shook uncontrollably, not from the cold, but from her release.

She had been entombed in that oak for almost 3000 years and now she was free, though she had no way of knowing how long she had been trapped. She had no control over her limbs, which felt like jell-o, and she felt incredibly weak, too weak to be normal.

Hermes flipped herself onto her back and looked up into the night sky, where the stars lay, just as they had in Greece. Letting out sigh of relief, a small smile crept up her face. She thanked the gods that the world was just as she left it. She must not have been trapped for that long, the forest was still there, and the sky held the same constellations of the great heroes of long ago.

She wondered if she could get her legs to work or at least some part of her body to move. Concentrating all her energy, Hermes began to move her fingers. A pain shot through her hand and up her arm, not a horrible pain but sharp enough. _This was good,_ she thought, _at least she could feel something._

Her toes were next and the same sensation of pins and needles shot through her feet and legs. A small laugh bubbled to her lips; boy did it feel good to be out. Moving her arms came next; it was slow and slightly painful, but eventually she was able to push herself into a sitting position.

Hermes suddenly became very aware of the biting winds whipping at her cropped hair. She had never felt cold before and her brow furrowed in confusion. Then it hit her; North America, the Trickster, losing her immortality. She banged her fist on the soft soil, _damn Loki! _

_Well, it wouldn't be too hard to find him,_ she thought to herself. All she had to do was call to her father, maybe her siblings; they'd know what to do. So, closing her eyes, she prayed to Zeus. A few moments passed and she opened her eyes, which were wide and confused. She had felt nothing, absolutely nothing. She tried again, this time praying to her brothers and sisters but again nothing.

Hermes told herself not to worry, that her family was known for not answering the prayers of mere mortals, which for all intents and purposes, she was. She shivered against the cold, goose bumps crawling up and down her arms and her teeth chattering. Hermes decided that she didn't like the cold, not one bit, and she ought to find shelter somewhere soon, preferably away from the natives.

Rolling herself onto her knees, Hermes pushed herself to her feet, wobbling ever so slightly on her unused legs. Another sturdy oak offered as support for the shaky woman and she breathed deeply, throwing her sandy eyes to the heavens.

"Father," she murmured, "please _help_ me."

Nothing, not even a well placed lightning bolt. Hermes knocked the back of her head against the tree, groaning in frustration. It was just like them to ignore her, gone for no more than a few years, judging by the height of the trees, and they had already forgotten her. They had probably jumped at the chance of getting that idiot _Mercury_ to take her place.

"_Bastards!_" she cried out in aggravation, slamming her fist against the tree. _This is a waste of time, _she thought, pushing herself from the oak and hobbling over to the next. Hermes went like this for some time, going from one tree to the next, using them as supports and anchors against the harsh winds.

Rain poured down on her, soaking her toga and matting her hair, while the icy winds howled, ripping at her clothes and chilling her to the bone. Lightning cracked overhead, but it was wild and feral, not like her father at all. She paused for a moment; something was terribly wrong, she could feel it. Hermes still had enough power to know that.

The blonde mortal jumped as thunder boomed, shaking the very earth. The weather was becoming more and more erratic and it was situated directly over the forest where Hermes was standing. Squinting up into the night sky, Hermes gasped as lightning began to crash around her.

Afraid to move, she stared at the abnormal bolts, which avoided the tall trees and struck the low ground instead. This was not how lightning was supposed to act, and she knew. It was almost as if hey were aimed at her, trying to hit _her_. Suspicions were confirmed when Hermes had to dance out of the way of an incredibly close electric bolt.

"What in Tartarus-!?"

_CRACK_

Eyes shooting up, Hermes saw a large redwood falter slightly on its trunk. Her sandy eyes grew wide as she realized what was about to happen. She tried to move, but her legs were numb and frozen in place. What you get from being trapped in a tree for years she supposed. The large tree moved in slow motion as it neared the earth and Hermes herself.

"Fantastic," she muttered, "not out for five minutes and already dead."

* * *

**Oooo, cliffhanger! Gotta love those. I hope you enjoyed it and I also hope you listened to that song, cause it's a great song and perfect for that scene. Already working on the next one so hopefully it'll be up sooner. Review please!**

**~U-Hinged**


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